


Enervation

by lumiere_is_light



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Everyone Loves Bard, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Legolas and Thranduil love Bard, Sleep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:47:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23934037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lumiere_is_light/pseuds/lumiere_is_light
Summary: The night before the Battle of the Five Armies begins, Bard wants to talk strategy with Thranduil. He is met instead by Legolas, who has an important story to share.orThranduil has to sleep every night because he is exhausted from taking care of his kingdom. Legolas is there to watch over him and look after him, since he is one of the few people Thranduil trusts with him sleeping.  I see them as much closer than they were in the films and the whole Tauriel ark threw me off. So, Thranduil/Legolas father/son feels with Bard in between because everybody loves Bard!
Relationships: Legolas Greenleaf & Thranduil
Comments: 3
Kudos: 105





	Enervation

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters or anything. That privilege is J.R.R. Tolkien's :)
> 
> For context, Enervation is a synonym for exhaustion

It was a cold and dark night in the ruined city of Dale. The skies were clear and the stars were shining brightly despite the looming darkness that the dawn would bring. Bard hugged his jacket close to his chest, trying to keep the pervasive chill from infiltrating his body. His hair was whipping around wildly as he made his way up the stone stairs. His thoughts were occupied by the battle that was to come, his children and the people he was now in charge of.

A group of Elven soldiers were marching in Bard’s direction as he neared the Elven camp. He swiftly moved to the side and allowed the twenty something soldiers to pass by him with ease. He watched them walk away towards the middle of the city. Must be a change of guard. Bard took one last look at their retreating forms and quickly began walking up the stone steps again.

Upon reaching the top, he stopped for a moment. This particular ledge had the perfect view of the Lonely Mountain. No doubt King Thranduil has chosen this place for central command for that reason. The Elven command was at a perfect strategic position. There were several tents pitched up on the left and one larger one on the right that had two guards posted at the entrance. That was Bard’s destination.

He had wanted to discuss the next day’s proceedings with King Thranduil and hopefully come to some sort of agreement on what to do about Thorin and his company. Bard had been able to rest with his children for the majority of the afternoon and evening, now at almost midnight, he was wide awake.

As he approached the large tent, he noticed Thranduil’s great elk laying to the right of the tent, devoid of its saddle and seemingly asleep. It breathed deeply and evenly, it’s great antlers tilted to one side allowing its neck to relax. Bard smiled at the large creature’s calmness and moved towards the stationed guards. They tilted their heads respectively.

“I seek an audience with King Thranduil, if that is alright. I wish to discuss what is to happen at dawn.” Bard explained. The two guards exchanged weary glances before the guard on the right turned and pushed the heavy fabric of the tent to enter.

“You will have to wait a moment.” The guard on the left said curtly, extending his hand towards the right. Bard nodded and went to stand where the guard had pointed to. A hot breath on his hand alerted him to a presence. The elk had woken up and lifted his head, staring directly at him. Bard detected some protectiveness from the elk, likely it had the interests of its master at the forefront of its mind. The elk was completely silent, save for the deep breaths coming in and out of its nostrils.

Then it did something unexpected. The elk began to nuzzle its snout into Bard’s jacket. Bard took a moment to appreciate just how large this creature actually was. It’s head alone was almost the size of his torso. Bard lifted a hand and cautiously put it to the elk’s forehead. It did not pull away, instead pushing its head closer to his body. Bard smiled lightly stroked from snout to forehead. It was very calming, being so close to such an incredible animal.

“He has taken a liking to you.”

Bard turned around abruptly in shock, his hand leaving the great elk’s head. Next to him was Prince Legolas, who had a small, almost imperceptible smile on his face.

“That is a rare gift.” Legolas continued. Bard took one last look at the elk before moving away to face the Prince of the Woodland Realm. “The guards tell me that you wish to speak with my father.”

“Yes. I had wanted to discuss strategy with him. I would greatly appreciate discussing the safety of my own people as well.” Bard explained. Legolas looked deep in thought at that. Bard took that moment to notice that his hair was loose, no braids adorning his hair like they usually would. It was strange just how alike Legolas and Thranduil looked now.

“You may come in, but you will have to be completely silent.” Legolas finally said. Bard looked at him curiously, not quite understanding what the elf meant by that. But Bard was almost desperate to meet with the Elvenking, so he nodded in agreement. “Please, follow me.” Legolas said as he turned towards the entrance of the tent. Bard followed.

Legolas nodded at the guards, who moved aside for him and Bard to pass. The guard on the left pulled the heavy fabric of the tent open a fraction, just enough for Bard and Legolas to pass through. There was an almost see-through curtain still separating the inside of the tent, which Legolas pulled to the side and they finally entered. The inside was dimly lit by a couple of lanterns in the centre where a large table sat. He noticed several maps and other assorted papers resting there. As Bard looked around he realised that Thranduil was nowhere in sight. He looked to Legolas, who was now standing by the table.

“Where is King Thranduil?” Bard asked softly, recalling Legolas’ previous request. Legolas looked up from the map he was studying and made eye contact with Bard. He then lifted his hand and pointed to a spot on the left side of the tent that Bard could not see. He moved from his spot at the entrance to where Legolas was standing. The sight that greeted him utterly confused him.

There was King Thranduil, fast asleep. He was laying on a wide bench of some sort, that was converted to a temporary bed. Thranduil’s head lay on a pillow, tilted away from the table. One arm was draped over his stomach, where the thick blanket covering him reached. He was wearing a loose white tunic that was slightly opens around the neck. Thranduil white hair fell over the side of the bench like a water fall of silver, unmoving except for a few loose strands. His chest moved up and down in a slow steady rhythm as Thranduil breathed deeply in his slumber. Bard did not understand how he missed this, but then again, he hadn’t been looking. He turned to Legolas.

“I do not understand. I was under the impression that elves had no need for traditional sleep.” Bard whispered, tilting his head towards the elf in front of him. Legolas glanced once more at his sleeping father, sighing somewhat deeply.

“You are correct. We do not need to sleep as often as you, only occasionally in times of great exhaustion.” Legolas explained as he leaned on the table a little bit. “But my father is different, he requires sleep nightly, else he would not be able to function.” Bard’s eyebrows furrowed at this confession. Never would he have guessed that the great Elvenking would need sleep like any mortal. Legolas noticed his confusion.

“I never would have guessed.” Bard said softly. Legolas nodded.

“No, not many people would. Which is why I must ask you to keep what I am to tell you to yourself. Since you are to become a King very soon, I feel it is appropriate.” Legolas said sternly. Bard was slightly shocked, that Legolas would entrust something so personal to Thranduil to him.

“Yes, of course, you have my word.” Bard quickly asserted. Legolas nodded and relaxed slightly.

“My father has been king of our realm for many years and in that time a darkness and sickness has been spreading over our forests. My father, unlike other Elven realms, does not have a ring of power to protect our kingdom from external forces, he instead uses his own magic and energy to nurture and protect the forest. Doing this takes an enormous toll on my father’s wellbeing and in recent years the sickness in our forest has become worse than ever.” Legolas paused, and took a deep breath. “Even before he was made king he experienced horrors that no elf ever should, the sacking of Doriath and the Battle of Daglorad being some. These horrors have made him weary, giving so much of himself to his lands has made him exhausted. We found that if he rested nightly, he would be less exhausted over time.” Legolas looked at Thranduil again.

“Why give so much of himself? Why do this if it takes such a great toll?” Bard asked. At that, Thranduil began to stir. Both Bard and Legolas immediately froze where they stood, holding their breaths. Thranduil did not wake. Instead, he turned the rest of his body away from the other two occupants, his form facing the fabric of the tent. After a moment, the deep breathing resumed, and his back moved in a steady pace. Bard released the breath he had been holding and watched at Legolas walked around the table to where his father lay.

Legolas picked up the edge of the blanket that was draped over Thranduil, and slowly pulled it up the the sleeping King’s shoulder. He straightened it out over Thranduil’s back and brushed a few stray strands of white hair from his neck. Legolas did this with such care and tenderness that Bard recognised as a deep love a son felt only for a parent.

“He does this because the forest would fall into darkness and die otherwise. It was the only way to save our realm and Adar was the only one who had the abilities to do it. A sacrifice he was all too willing to make.” Legolas whispered, turning his attention back to Bard. “This is the first time Adar has slept since the dwarves arrived in our realms three days ago. He likely would not have, if I had not come or if he did not have faith in your capabilities.” Bard let out a soft chuckle at the compliment. “I do not want to wake him, so if you would allow me, I can explain to you what Adar has in mind for the morning.” Legolas said quietly, extending his arm towards the maps and papers on the table.

“Yes, I would greatly appreciate it.” Bard whispered. He moved closer to the table, facing Legolas who stood on the opposite end. Legolas then began eloquently explaining the Elven strategy for what was to come. Bard added his own contributions, as little as they were, which Legolas took to heart and found ways to incorporate them. Bard also began memorising the different routes in and out of Dale, as well as the towers that surrounded the city. They continued on like this, in hushed voices so as not to wake Thranduil, for little under an hour.

“Your fighters will be surrounded by the army, they will not be directly in the line of danger. They should be safe with us.” Legolas said pointing out the arrangement that had been drawn up. Bard nodded in relief. His people were capable fighters, but they had little to no knowledge of battle. Bard studied this arrangement carefully, until a guard entered the tent. Legolas immediately stood and walked towards him.

“Hir-nin Legolas, Mithrandir is here. He wished to speak with his Majesty and Lord Bard, and to give council.” The guard was so quiet that Bard almost didn’t hear him. Legolas looked back at his father, who had not moved in an hour and was still deep in sleep.

“Can this not wait until later?” Legolas whispered slightly exasperated.

“He is insistent my lord. He will not leave until he has spoken to the King.” The guard replied. Legolas let out a deep sigh of annoyance and rubbed his temples with on hand for a moment.

“Tell him to wait, I will tell you when he is allowed in.” Legolas finally whispered. At that, the guard bowed his head and exited the tent once more. Legolas ran a hand through his hair and looked back at Bard. “I need to wake up my father, if you could be as silent as you can while I do, I do not want to shock him too much.” Bard nodded, not saying another word. Legolas bowed his head slightly in thanks then moved towards his father’s sleeping form.

Legolas slightly bent over his father, and very softly put his hand at the juncture between Thranduil’s neck and shoulder. There was a sharp inhale before Thranduil’s shoulder jerked violently at Legolas’ touch and he started to shake equally violently. His was scrunched up in discomfort, but his eyes remained closed.

“Sídh adar, ha na- Legolas.” Legolas whispered softly. The effect was instant. Thranduil started to settle down, the shaking subsiding and his breathing evening out again. Thranduil inclined his head towards Legolas slightly. He inhaled deeply and his hand came up to grasp the hand on his neck. Thranduil’s eyes opened slightly, revealing his pale blue eyes.

“Is it dawn already?” Thranduil asked, his voice thick with sleep and tiredness. He shifted his head once more to look upon his son through sleepy eyes.

“Nay Ada, you have scarcely slept four hours.” Legolas whispered apologetically. “I am sorry to wake you, but Mithrandir is insistent on speaking with you. He will not leave until then.” Legolas squeezed Thranduil’s shoulder lightly and then started rubbing his father’s neck in an attempt to comfort him. Thranduil’s eyes finally opened, pulling his hand over his face as he shifted to his back again. He still grasped Legolas’ hand.

“Nay penneth it is not your fault. Let us get this over with.” Thranduil said exasperated. Legolas let go of his father and picked up the fine overcoat from the neighbouring chair. Thranduil sat up and put his elbows on his legs, rubbing his eyes with the palm of his hands, as if trying to chase away the tiredness he felt. He then ran his hands through his hair, letting out a long sigh and pulling the blanket off of his legs.

It was then when Legolas draped the overcoat on Thranduil’s shoulders that Bard caught sight of the monarch’s face. Indeed, it showed signs of exhaustion. In this moment Thranduil looked like he would love nothing more than to sleep for an age. His pale eyes displayed a bone deep tiredness that he could seldom forget. It troubled Bard to see such a strong character riddled with a tiredness that elves should not feel. What Legolas had told him would not be easily forgotten, a self-sacrifice that was so detrimental to the elf’s wellbeing that he needed to rest like a mortal. Bard remembered what had been told about the Elvenking of the Woodland Realm, that he was ruthless, less wise than his kin and cold hearted, but that seemed so distant in this moment. Bard was witness to the most private of moments between a father and son, king and prince. And Bard felt indirectly comforted by it, less afraid of what the dawn would bring.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed that :)  
> Translations  
> ~ Adar/Ada - Father/Dad  
> ~ Hir-nin - My Lord  
> ~ Sídh ada, ha na- Legolas - "Peace father, it is Legolas"  
> ~ Penneth - Young one


End file.
